


versions

by civillove



Series: irresistible force paradox [5]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23223067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: anon request: Malcolm screwing up and hurting Dani, and how he makes up for it.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Series: irresistible force paradox [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658032
Comments: 20
Kudos: 118





	versions

**Author's Note:**

> This has more plot than I’m sure you wanted but I don’t make the rules.

The thing about her and Bright is that, for the most part, everything feels relatively easy. She’s not naïve; she knows they both have more than one skeleton in their closets and that the ‘honeymoon’ stage is often waiting for the other shoe to drop. But she can’t say she hasn’t been appreciating her time with him despite all that.

They’re taking it slow, figuring out how the other works, friends and partners first with layers of intimacy in-between. Dani likes that they’re just not one thing, that there’s so many versions of them that she enjoys.

They grocery shop together sometimes; not because they live in the same apartment but because it’s just something mundane to pass the time. Bright talks her ear off about how the Oreo cookie was invented and Dani sneaks strawberry ice cream into his cart so that it ends up in his freezer when she’s over.

They make dinner at his apartment, or well, most of the time they order take-out but Dani isn’t complaining. Sometimes after a long day, the last thing she wants to do is cook. He doesn’t often eat but when he does, he steals things right off her plate. And she lets him. He picks a fight with her when it comes to the popcorn bowl, which always ends up with her sitting in his lap and holding onto the popcorn for dear life.

But she figures that’s the whole point.

The job keeps them busy but she’s reminded just how much she likes working with him when they manage to catch a perp. Hours spent in that conference room, olive green walls with one whiteboard that used to feel like it could close in on her at any moment, somehow feel open now when he’s buzzing around building a profile. She learns things about people that she didn’t see before, the hidden stories in the spine of books that killers wear around them like shields.

Bright has made her a better cop.

They go on dates when they have the time and unfortunately, they’re losing track of how many have been interrupted by Gil calling them with a case. Her favorite thus-far has been the Brooklyn Aquarium—somewhere she hasn’t visited since she was younger. She’s always loved the ocean, how massive it is, how it can feel like it’s capable of swallowing her whole. She feels like a little kid, face nearly pressed up against the glass, both of them surrounded in blueish green light, observing creatures swim past them. It takes her longer than usual to realize that Bright is watching _her_ as she remains completely captivated and mystified by the underwater world around her. She touches sea urchins and jellyfish and Malcolm asks her if she’s aware that octopi have three hearts. Dani gives him information back about how the female octopus often strangles a male during mating and then eats him—which he finds _wildly_ entertaining.

He kisses her under a glass water ceiling, just because he can.

Bright invites her to a lot of charity events that Jessica attends or hosts. Sometimes she doesn’t go but often she allows him to talk her into it. She enjoys dressing up every so often and seeing Malcolm in a suit is a thought she’s never opposed to. There’s a lot of good, expensive food, free club soda and sometimes a dance floor where Dani most definitely steps on his feet as they twirl. She feels Jessica’s eyes on them every so often and when Bright gets them refills, his mother slips in beside her and tells her ‘he’s happier’. And while that’s not saying much, she knows that means something.

On days that they don’t have to head into the precinct until the afternoon, sometimes they rarely get out of bed. Bright doesn’t sleep with her, if he ever sleeps at all, but most of the time when she wakes up he’s there beside her—reading a case file or a book. On rare occasions he’s pressed against her, combing his fingers through her hair, pressing kisses to her forehead like it’s one of the most natural things he’s ever done. He allows her to get up, go to the bathroom to brush her teeth, grab herself a cup of tea—but then he’s tugging her back into bed, between his legs, lips immediately on her own. He’s frustratingly good at reading her body language, at knowing exactly what she wants. She likes rolling him over so that he’s on top of her, the weight of his body between her legs and against her chest, she likes feeling when he’s hard against her inner thigh and rocking their hips together until soft noises leave his lips. They often lose track of time and are late despite Gil’s glaring when they walk in. They share secret smiles and get to work.

This, however, is where they feel the most organic.

He reaches his hand back for her as they leave the tea shop, Earl Grey steaming out from their to-go cups. Dani laces her fingers with his as they navigate through the streets of New York to walk back to the precinct. They try to talk about anything other than work, even though she knows that the current case is on Bright’s mind. It’s usually a little easier for him to compartmentalize but she can tell he’s distracted even when he’s actively responding to her.

She scrunches her nose as they stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change, and takes a sip of her tea. “I think I liked yesterday’s mix better.”

“I told you that you weren’t going to like that.” There’s a hint of a smile against the rim of his own cup.

Dani narrows her eyes at him, “I’m dedicated to trying all the Earl Grey teas—who knew I wasn’t going to like every single one of them?” Malcolm is about to say that he _definitely_ saw this coming but she throws him a look that tells him he should know better. He smirks and snaps his mouth closed.

“What don’t you like?” He asks as they cross the street.

She listens to her boots click against the ground for a few moments as they walk, staring into her cup like it might tell her the exact words she wants. For now, she settles with, “It’s too sweet.”

“Says the girl who likes an _obscene_ amount of sugar in her tea?” He throws back at her, eyebrow raised. “Red Earl Grey is like that. Earthy sweet, it’s the bergamot oil—which is an orange, by the way.”

“Isn’t it a lime-green color though?”

Bright smiles, shaking his head as he stops and turns to look at her. “Come on, just switch cups with me. You’re going to ask anyways.”

“Not a mind reader though, hmm?” She teases, switching cups with him before taking his hand again. Dani takes a slow sip of his regular Earl Grey and lets out a pleased sigh.

They pass by a young couple with a kid, the father hoisting his son on top of his shoulders even though he has ice cream in his hands and it will most definitely get into his hair. There’s the softest of smiles on Malcolm’s face but it fades almost as soon as it appears, his eyes drifting into a blue fog gaze that often happens when he’s trying to piece a case together.

She bites down on her lower lip, lets him think, but she gets the feeling that he’s not just contemplating about the current string of murders that they have on their hands.

“I’m thinking about cleaning out my place.” She says after a moment, attempting one last time to pull him into a normal conversation.

He lifts his head, gaze snapping to hers as she manages to get his attention. “What?” Then, “Oh, you mean like going through clothes or…?” He takes a sip of her tea that is now his and makes a face.

She tries not to smile, “Stuff, mostly. I just feel like I have too much for my shoebox apartment.”

Bright hums and she knows he’s going through her place in his head, sifting through what she could possibly be getting rid of. It’s not like she lives like a hoarder, or anything, but…she finds she’s spending less and less time there. Even before they started dating, she basically just came home to sleep or change clothes before going back to work. Now it’s even less because she ends up over at his place, his couch almost twice as more comfortable than her bed.

“’Stuff’ meaning what? What do you want to get rid of?” He stops then, tugging on her hand so she’s pulled right in front of him as they stand on the corner outside their work. “Wait let me guess.”

She rolls her eyes and rocks back on her heels, “Bright.”

He narrows his gaze at her, mischief playing with the blue in his eyes as he begins to pull words like they’re printed directly onto her skin, “You pretend you’re not sentimental, but I know that you are. Which is why you have jazz records near your couch, most likely belonging to…” He pauses. “A grandfather.”

Dani huffs out a small sound, trying to wait for him to finish. She knows when he gets like this that it’s pointless to stop him—she also knows that he’s deflecting how he feels about the case they’re working on by profiling her instead.

“You don’t collect seashells or something like it, which is ironic because I know how much you love the ocean.” He licks his lips, glancing at the tea in her hands. “So my guess is you want to get rid of the coffee cups that are building up in the cupboard above the sink.”

Her mouth falls open a little, “Okay, how did you _do_ that?”

He smiles, and then, “I’ve made tea at your house before, remember?” Her cheeks instantly blotch pink and she kinda hates him in this moment, shoving his chest with her free hand when she disentangles their touch.

Malcolm at least has the decency to look a little sheepish but he’s _grinning_ at her, snatching her hand up and using the opportunity to draw her closer.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it.” Dani doesn’t say anything to him and instead leans against his chest because it’s easier. “You know I think that’s a great idea seeing as how I nearly got a concussion from the mugs tumbling out last time I was over.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

Bright kisses the bridge of her nose before taking a step back, motioning towards their destination because their break is almost over. She chews on words inside her mouth as they walk back inside even though the silence isn’t uncomfortable between them. She wants to bring up the case, ask him if he’s okay but she knows better than anyone that you can’t force someone to talk if they don’t want to.

They both prefer a little space when something is bothering them—so she can only offer what she can until he decides he wants to open up to her.

She just hopes that he will. That ‘working on doing better’ isn’t always as simple as it seems.

Dani pauses right outside the conference room, watching Gil and JT ask Edrisa questions about the autopsy that she’s brought them. She glances at Bright, who’s stimming his fingers against the palm of his hand, eyes boring into the same scene.

She touches his elbow gently, fingers trailing down his arm until she can still his hand. He looks at her slowly, clearing his throat, getting this out before she has a chance to ask, “I’m fine.”

She nods a little and sips her tea, bites her tongue on saying that she doesn’t believe him. His walls are not hers to tear down just because she wants to be there for him. “Well, if at any point you’re not…you know I’m here for you, right?”

His body stills ever so slightly and he holds onto her gaze like a safety blanket. “I know,” Bright takes a breath into his lungs, glancing into the conference room before holding the door open for her, “But I’m fine.”

Dani dips her chin, walking past him into the room—she’ll let him believe that as long as he needs to.

\--

It’s late but none of them have left yet, holed up in the conference room pouring over evidence and trying to see where the dots connect. There are take-out boxes mixed with manila folders, Dani’s taken her shoes off so she can crisscross her legs up onto her chair and she’s pretty sure Bright hasn’t taken a seat since he walked into the room this afternoon.

He goes from bouncing between the board to the table and back again, hand up to his face or in his hair. When she concentrates on his fingers, she can see the tremor every so often before he stuffs his hands into his pockets, as if that’ll help keep the secret that he’s agitated.

It’s only a matter of time before Gil sends everyone home; no one works well on empty.

“Let’s go over this one more time before calling it a night,” He sighs and stirs sugar into his coffee as he closes the door with his foot on the way back from the break room. “What do we know?”

“They’re all fathers.” Bright says instantly and then draws his lower lip into his mouth because he spoke too quickly.

Dani clears her throat, “Male, all white, all mid-thirties. And yeah, fathers.”

JT has his eyes on Malcolm as he speaks, drumming his fingers on the table. “They were all poisoned with sodium thiopental before being beaten.”

Bright hums, the corners of his mouth twitching as if there’s a secret joke that he’s only sharing with himself. He turns to face the others, his shoulders taut, “It’s a short-acting barbiturate.”

“Something amusing to you that you want to share with the rest of the class?” Gil presses and Dani winces a little at the tone.

The profiler schools his face before he shakes his head, smoothing his hand down the front of his suit jacket, “No, just…that barbiturate is used to induce medical comas. Just seems a little,” He pauses, searching for the right word. “Pointless if you’re going to bludgeon someone to death.”

Dani runs a hand through her hair before gathering it up into a loose ponytail, “Could that infer that our killer feels guilty? Couldn’t handle the fast violence so he puts them into a coma first?” 

Gil glances at Bright, who’s shifting on his feet, his eyes occasionally finding hers but never settling within her gaze. She wants to get up from the table, to touch him, to ground him in a way that she knows she can but the boundary between personal and work prevents her from doing so.

“Kid?” He says, capturing his attention with a persistent gaze, “What do you think?”

Malcolm opens and closes his mouth, stuck on words that he doesn’t want to say because he rarely finds himself at this moment, “I’m not sure. We need to find more of a connection of how the victims knew one another.”

JT lets out a sigh, “We’ve been over that a million times, bro, I told you.” Dani kicks him under the table and gives him a _look_ that slows his roll when he meets eyes with her. He clicks his tongue off the roof of his mouth and approaches Bright again but with a more patient tone to his voice, “Their kids all go to the same school. According to the wives, they also all went to the same country club every other Sunday.”

He shakes his head as if he’s physically pushing JT’s words out of his ears, “No, that’s. There’s something we’re not seeing. Dani’s right, there’s guilt involved but we don’t know whether the killer is working out his own personal guilt when he kills or if the victims were guilty of something that he thought they should be punished for.”

JT scrunches his nose, “There’s a difference?”

“ _Yes,”_ Bright practically snaps before clearing his throat, straightening his shoulders and avoiding Dani’s gaze when she tries capture his with her own. “Yes, there is.” He repeats, calmer this time. “We’re either looking for…a history of substance abuse or alcoholism. Something of the like,” He waves his hand in the air, turning to look back at the board. “Something that’s a little harder to dig up.”

Gil lets out a slow breath, moving to squeeze Bright’s shoulder. He most definitely flinches at the touch, just slightly, before allowing Gil’s hand to stay there. “Good work. We’ll see what we can find for tomorrow. For now, I want you all to head home. Get some rest.”

She notices he only seems to exhale when the others leave the room and after she pulls her boots back on, she approaches him carefully, her hand slipping to rest on his lower back. It takes him a moment to meet her gaze and when he does, she offers him a small smile as her thumb rubs against the muscle above his belt.

“You want me to drive you home?” She gives him the option of pushing her away but he doesn’t.

Instead, Bright leans down to briefly press their foreheads together before he nods.

\--

Dani doesn’t expect that he’ll let her come upstairs, but he mentions the strawberry ice cream that she keeps managing to make sure is in his freezer and that’s how she finds herself at his kitchen counter. She spoons another scoop from the tub into her bowl, scrunching her nose when he tells her he’s out of chocolate syrup.

“ _That’s_ a shame.”

He smiles a little but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He’s changed into more comfortable clothing, a t-shirt and pair of joggers. “I’m sure it’ll find a way into my cart the next time we go.”

Dani pulls her legs up onto the stool, which she almost can’t do but manages it anyways. She leans back, her knees against her chest, satisfied that she’s started stashing pairs of leggings here—he always gives her a shirt to wear.

The clock on his oven glares off-white numbers that tell her it’s almost midnight and she already starts to feel fatigue begin to weigh on her shoulders. There’s a routine hanging in the air between them; of making their way to his couch where they put on a movie just to fill the silence. She’ll fall asleep and he’ll move her to his bed. She no longer has to ask if she can spend the night.

But…if he doesn’t want to talk about the case, maybe they can figure something else out.

Dani keeps the spoon in her mouth for a moment, licking strawberry off it like a popsicle, watching him put the ice cream tub away without having any. This is probably a bad idea but she feels herself talking before she can stop herself,

“You know, I’m not exactly one for fitting into the mold of a typical couple but…I spend a lot of time over here.”

Malcolm misreads her lead in, which he usually never does, “I like you here.” He moves to lean his elbows on the counter, watching her eat ice cream. He thinks she’s worrying about overstaying her welcome, “Until I start running out of clothes.”

She huffs out a noise and glances down at the Harvard sweatshirt one she has on, “Just your sweatshirts. I could start on your expensive sweaters at some point, if you want.”

He rolls his eyes but it’s playful, taking her spoon to steal a scoop from her bowl.

“Who can afford a walk-in closet in New York, anyways? I’m pretty sure it’s the same size of my apartment.”

“Alright,” He points the spoon at her, “You made your point, smartass.”

She grins, shrugging her one shoulder, “I’m just saying that I’ve noticed when I fall asleep here, you end up putting me in your bed.”

He licks his lips, putting her spoon back into the bowl. “Are you trying to tell me you want me to stop being a gentleman?”

Dani shakes her head, chewing on her lower lip before she leans back into her chair. She tries to decide how she wants to wade into this conversation because it’s too late to backtrack, “I was just thinking you could…join me, one of these times. I can help you put the restraints on.”

It only takes a matter of seconds for her to see the solid wall he puts down between them and even though he’s giving her a soft smile, he’s shutting her out as he stands up straight from leaning on the table. “No, it’s…” He rubs the back of his neck, not finishing his thought, “Besides, I barely sleep as it is.”

She doesn’t let the conversation rest there, “That’s not good either. Especially if you’re not sleeping _because_ I’m here.”

“I didn’t say that.” He says quickly.

“You didn’t have to,” Her eyes trail over the tired lines of his face and she stops herself from reaching out to touch them with her fingertips, “I might not be a profiler, but I can tell when you’re avoiding something.”

Bright looks away from her for a moment, the muscle in his jaw clenching because now all of a sudden there’s _two_ things that he doesn’t want to talk about. Dani understands needing space, she understands needing time in order to figure out how to open up about something—but she also knows that if she doesn’t at least try to encourage him that he won’t talk to her at all.

Malcolm is far too good at bottling and he once again avoids the point of the conversation with a well-devised deflection, “I toss and turn all night, you won’t get any sleep.”

Dani finishes the ice cream in her bowl, standing from her stool to take it to the sink and rinse it out before putting it in the dishwasher, “I’m a heavy sleeper, I’m not worried about me—”

He interrupts her, his voice a little strained, “But I am. I don’t want to hurt you.”

That’s what it’s really about, isn’t it? Bright’s told her about Eve, about what happened when he couldn’t wake up from a nightmare, what he almost did. She spent some time making sure he heard her when she said it wasn’t his fault—that he couldn’t live in fear of doing it again. And while, at the time, she was talking about another woman, she means it now too.

Dani takes a step towards him but doesn’t reach out to touch, “I have a pretty decent right hook if you remember.”

She’s teasing him, of course, but something snaps in Bright’s body like a rubberband and he grits out, “I said no.”

The words hang in the air between them, the tone of his voice ringing in her ears. She folds her arms across her chest and she knows, distantly, that this is why she shouldn’t have pushed him but he can’t decide that he’s always going to shut her out. That’s not how relationships work. That’s not how she wants it to be between them.

It took her a while for her to open up about her dad, so she gets it, but—

“When things get difficult, don’t push me away.”

Malcolm swallows, running a hand over his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. Some of his hair slips out of the gel and bows over his forehead when he nods. His eyes are warm when he looks at her again, a sheepish tilt to his lips because he feels guilty about snapping at her.

“I’m sorry.” He says after a few moments and Dani nods before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

She lingers and he dips his chin, his nose brushing along her jawline.

This still feels like progress.

\--

Dani makes the mistake of not insisting Malcolm sleep in his own bed that night.

She knows that the current case has put him on edge and that she probably made it worse by trying to talk about the intimacy of their relationship. She hears him in the middle of the night on the couch, a soft moaning that grows louder—there’s no words yet. She tries to force herself awake as she pulls the covers back, getting out of bed, but the fogginess of sleep surrounds her like a thick blanket.

By the time she makes it over to him, he’s writhing on the couch, twisting and turning. When she turns the table lamp on, she can see sweat kissing his forehead, his hair sticking to it. She hesitates, not sure what to do…the last time he was freaking out, he was at least _awake._ It feels wrong to sucker punch him when he’s stuck in a nightmare.

Dani approaches him carefully, doesn’t touch him yet, hovering beside the couch. “Bright. _Bright!”_ She licks her lips, pulling the cover off of him, “Malcolm, it’s Dani. It’s Dani, you’re having a nightmare.”

He’s muttering words that she can’t understand and she knows, in theory, it’s better for him to ride this out than for her to try and wake him. But then he starts thrashing in earnest, his hands moving, balled into fists as he tries to force something away from him. He’s gasping, making sounds she never wants to hear again and out of instinct, she moves forward and grips his shoulders.

It’s instantaneous, the moment Bright feels her grip, he jerks _up_ and throws her off balance. She takes a step back, nearly getting tangled in the blanket on the floor.

“Bright, stop.”

He throws a fist at the sound and luckily Dani’s reflexes are quick enough to move; she catches his hand but isn’t prepared for him rounding the other in her direction. He hits her across her face and her foot catches on the leg of the coffee table, her body going down before she can maintain her equilibrium.

She blinks, the room spinning slightly before her eyes narrow on a glass of water Bright must have gotten before he fell asleep. She picks it up and throws the liquid in his direction, most of it catching his t-shirt and the bottom of his face.

He gasps, taking as step back, blinking rapidly as he draws his arms up. It feels like he’s seeing them for the first time, like he’s recognizing that these are _his_ hands. And maybe in the nightmare they weren’t. Maybe they were someone else’s.

His clear, blue eyes finally find her, widening as he chokes out, “Dani.”

She shakes her head, her breathing a little heavy but she quickly gets it under control. “I’m okay,” Because she is, it could have been worse.

Bright’s face twists with remorse, his trembling fingers working their way through his hair as he slicks it back, wanting to move away from her. She senses that shift and reaches for him, won’t let him leave the living room, not wanting him to think she’s afraid of him.

“I’m fine,” She repeats herself as he sinks to the floor, body sagging with exhaustion and waves of leftover terror. “You didn’t hurt me.” She tips his chin, running her thumb along his jawline until his eyes meet hers.

His hand finds her other one, quickly lacing their touch, and they both sit more comfortably on the floor. Neither of them are ready to move despite the dampness from the water she tossed. She waits patiently, hoping that he’ll decide to tell her what the nightmare was about.

His thumb brushes over her cheek and she keens out of the touch; she knows that her skin is red from where he’s hit her but he doesn’t say anything. Malcolm closes his eyes after a moment, taking a struggling breath into his lungs.

“I’m sorry.”

Dani shakes her head, inching closer to him on the floor. “I don’t blame you.”

He swallows, clearly trying to ram down a wall of emotion that’s working its way up his throat. “This case just…really brought out the worst. I thought I was handling it okay but, I should know better that my dreams won’t leave me alone.”

She’s quiet for a few moments and touches his hair even though he doesn’t open his eyes back up. “Your father?” She guesses.

“It’s…it’s hard to explain,” Bright lets out a shaky breath. “But it’s like…his hands were mine. In the nightmare I had, I…I saw myself cutting people apart, strangling—all his victims’ faces mixing with the fathers we have on this case.”

When his eyes meet hers again, they’re filled with unshed tears. If he thinks she’s going to think the worst of him, he’s got another thing coming. Dani sighs gently and presses a kiss to his forehead before drawing him into her chest.

His hug is tight, fingers digging into her back, face hidden against her shoulder.

They don’t move for a long time.

\--

They don’t really talk about it after it happens; not the day after, or even the one after that. Dani allows Malcolm the space, to pretend for a little that it never happened, to focus on the case that they solve once again as a team.

He comes over her apartment to help her clean out her kitchen cupboard and he brings a Dutch apple pie, her favorite. She can practically smell it before she opens the door; it’s fresh, he just made it, the cinnamon gooeyness making her stomach growl as she ushers him inside.

“Oh a pie, huh?” She takes it from him, looking over her shoulder as they wander into her kitchen. “Are you trying to bribe me so you don’t have to help with the cupboards?”

He smiles a little, watching her grab a fork and digging right in, not bothering with plates. “More like ‘sorry for attacking you from a nightmare’, though, let’s not make it a habit.”

She chuckles a little, taking a seat at her kitchen table—she’s glad he’s at least able to joke about it, that’s a good sign. The surface is nearly covered with mugs, to which he raises an eyebrow.

“You really weren’t kidding.”

She licks her lips, a soft moan leaving her throat as she forks another bite into her mouth. “No, I told you. Need to get rid of some of them. Maybe I can keep some at your place.”

“So your junk becomes mine? That’s cute.”

She kicks his shin under the table, “Some of these are prized collectables.”

Malcolm purses his lips and picks one up that has a bunch of crabs on it. It shockingly says, ‘I’m crabby before coffee’.

Dani shrugs her shoulder, “You’re just proving my point.”

Bright shakes his head, putting the mug back down before he stands and picks up a cardboard box that she has built on the ground. He moves towards the cupboard and begins to take a few more mugs out to set on the counter.

She has a few more bites of the pie he’s brought her before setting it down, moving towards him. He remains busy as she wraps an arm around his waist from the side, pressing her nose into his shoulder. She takes a small breath in, memorizing the scent of his cologne and skin.

“You okay?” She asks after a few moments and he nods, turning his head to look down at her. “You know you didn’t have to make anything up to me, right? The pie and stuff. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Just…let me do this, okay?”

Dani nods softly and he leans forward to kiss her temple before continuing to work through her cupboard collection of mugs. She returns to her seat with her pie, pulling her legs up to watch him, offering commentary on where she’s gotten all these things.

Sometimes he smiles or scrunches his nose—like he knows all of these are going to end up in _his_ kitchen.

He’s not wrong.

She thinks that maybe, this version of them might be the one she likes the most.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to everyone who's been super supportive of me posting brightwell fics :3 i can't tell you how much it means to me to receive kudos or warm comments. you can always come find me at blainesebastian.tumblr.com if you wanna chat or leave prompts :)


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